


Getting A Leg Up

by thesez



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Humour, Mettaton Ending, Other, Skeleton Antics, i hope you like glitter, might eventually be Mettasans if i can finagle it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesez/pseuds/thesez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton rules. Sans is having some trouble adjusting. (Papyrus is also along for the ride).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. heres the mail, it never fails

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a vehicle for all my King MTT neutral end related ideas, and also, shenanigans. i have almost no direction for this, so i have no idea where im going or what im doing, but hopefully itll be a fun ride anyway. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> dont expect a regular update schedule either. sorry

Of all the outcomes he could have predicted, of all the half-formed inklings of familiarity that itched at his brain and all the twinges of deja vu that he was plagued by, of all the trajectories he could have calculated... this, despite being, arguably, not the worst, this was one of the least likely situations he imagined. At the very least, he never expected it to come on so quiet, and so subtle, and so strong.

Of course, he could have - and did - forsee the human's disappearance. That was almost an inevitability, one way or another, humans never remained underground for long. Nor was he too surprised by the various casualties along the way. As heartbreaking - and disappointing - the losses were, they were within expected parameters. The loss of the King, the loss of the Queen, the loss of the captain of the Royal Guard. All tragic, and all preventable. But there was nothing (he told himself) that he could have done about that. 

And as dire as the situation was, it was almost a relief. There no longer seemed to be the same darkness lurking, impending. No dread dawning on the horizon. No (and he was hesitant to believe so, as if, in thinking it, he would be daring the universe to prove him wrong) blackout of the timeline. As far as he could tell, now, the universe would not be ending. For the first time in a long time, he was free to stop focusing on the what-if, and instead contend with the here-and-now.

Which was timely, because the here-and-now was REALLY concerning.

With King Asgore gone, without Queen Toriel, or Captain Undyne, or even Royal Scientist Alphys to take charge, the underground and its monsters were confused, listless, and desperate for guidance. And at first, it seemed they wouldn't get it. But there was one constant. One thing that refused to change, that was familiar, and dependable, and as Sans realised one idle day, slumped over on his couch in tired dismay, and bathed in the gaudy pink and purple light coming from the tv, something increasingly... ubiquitous.

Had Mettaton always looked so... mesmerising? Despite the premier of his new body, his old form still featured prominently, and even moreso now that he had launched near-dozens of new programs, to keep everyone in "high spirits". Not a day went by without Sans seeing that flat, brightly-lit panelled face, and not a day went by where (very soon after) he wondered for a moment if those illuminated squares had always seemed to, just barely, flicker and pulse in such a soothing manner.

And after that, he'd always clench his eyesockets shut and rub at his temples to chase away the odd brain-ache and fatigue, and the even more odd feeling of vague embarrassment from how frequently he found himself needing to do that. Normally he would turn the tv off and find something else to do, spend some time with his brother, or hang out at Grillby's, sell bizarre foodstuffs, or nap in his sentry station. But one day, as soon as he'd flicked the tv off and casually dropped the remote control aside, he heard a knock on the door.

After spending a couple of moments considering ignoring it, another knock suggested that the perpetrator wouldn't accept his lack of response. He got up, shuffled over to the door, and opened it just in time to see the little Monster Kid lunge forward, attempting a third knock with their head. Sans' jacket caught the brunt of the blow, and he tried not to laugh too much at their faceplant into his torso.

"hey kid. that's no way to get ahead in life."

Monster Kid gave him a playful headbutt in lieu of a verbal response, and looked up to show him the letter delicately held in their mouth. He took it and gave it a once over. 'Dear Sans' was bedazzled onto the front. He reflexively grimaced.

"Yo!! Special delivery for Mr. Sans, direct from the capital! And directly from me! Man, my parents are gonna be so psyched with my summer job!"

"nice work, kid. you're gonna go places with that attitude."

"Yeah, I go a lot of places! This is from Mr. Mettaton. He asked me to give that to you personally. He's no Undyne, but... He's working hard, like I am!"

Sans nodded in acknowledgement and looked them up and down for a moment, noting their conspicuously black-and-pink striped shirt, and was given pause, until Monster Kid tapped their feet in an excited and slightly impatient little jig.

"ah. yeah. thanks."

Sans dug around in his jacket pockets, then his pants pockets, and finally managed to retrieve a couple of G. He offered the coins, and the monster kid picked them up between their teeth.

"here ya go, buddy. don't spend it all in one place. unless it's at my 'dog stand, heh."

The little courier gave him another thankful hop and nod, and trotted off. Sans glanced again at the letter with trepidation. It wasn't as if it had been put into, onto, or under his mailbox, which would have made it easy to ignore. It was put directly into his hands, and it had an unpleasant weight to it, like he was holding a sparkly Pandora's Box. After a lengthy consideration, he leaned over and was about to place it on the ground to be forgotten about when he heard a familiar clatter behind him.

"SANS! PLEASE STOP STANDING IN THE DOORWAY LIKE THIS, YOU'RE GOING TO LET ALL THE SNOW BLOW IN AND COVER THE FLOOR!"

Sans straightened and turned his head, almost sheepish at getting caught, to see Papyrus gesturing dramatically to the house entrance with a hand on his hip.

"so, uh, bro, you're saying you don't want the house to get... snowed in?"

"... AUGH! SNOWDIN, HOME OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS, SNOWDIN, HOME OF THE SNOW-BASED PUN NAME? HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS SOONER???"

"i dunno, paps. maybe you, uh-" He shifted slightly to hide the letter slightly. "couldn't see the forest for the trees? but i think you should chill out about it. don't let it get you r-"

"'RATTLED'!! YES. FINE. PLEASE JUST CLOSE THE DOOR. WHAT IF YOUR PET ROCK GOT OUT AND ESCAPED?"

"aw, heck, you're right. thanks for keepin' me responsible, bro."

"YOU'RE WELCOME! THANK YOU FOR THE THANK YOU, BROTHER!"

Papyrus puffed out his chest, perked back up by the appreciation, and hopped back onto the creaking couch, Sans closing the door and following suit after inconspicuously tucking the letter into the inside of his jacket and trying not to look too uneasy at the tv lit up again.

"whatcha watchin'?"

"MTT'S NEW ART SHOW! FIRST HE SHOWS US HOW TO PAINT A PORTRAIT OF HIM, AND THEN, WE GET TO WATCH THE PAINT DRY! IT'S RIVETING."

"'riveting', huh? a robot paint show?"

"YES, THAT WAS THE THING THAT I SAID!"

Sans couldn't help but let his grin inch wider for a moment.

"IN FACT, I'D GO SO FAR AS TO SAY, IT'S POSITIVELY HYPNOTIC!"

His grin faltered.


	2. letter go

If there was one thing Sans excelled at, it was doing nothing, and that was exactly what he planned to continue doing for the foreseeable future, ominous correspondence be damned. But there was something unsettling about the fact that his carefully-cultivated fatalism no longer applied. As far as he could tell, his actions finally mattered, and that frightened him into inaction in an entirely new way. As much as he tried to avoid dealing with the letter, he could never quite get rid of it. 

It sat in his pocket for a while, and its bizarre heaviness left him feeling more lopsided than usual. He tucked it under his pet rock, and found it still there the next day, with - of all things - not a note of dismay, but a certificate of commendation next to the plate. Made out to Rocks-Anne, "for her excellent child-rearing skills", and signed in loud handwriting, punctuated with a hearty 'NYEH HEH HEH'. He co-signed it.

After a few days, and another session of the bright, soothing and vaguely unsettling television viewing, he lifted the rock and took the letter back.

("SANS! DID THAT ENVELOPE FINALLY HATCH? WOWIE! YOU MUST BE SO PROUD OF HER!")

He did something he never expected to do. He took the item that had been cluttering the lounge room, and... moved it. Into his room. He scrounged around in a stray pile of stationery detritus, dug out a roll of tape, delicately taped each corner to the tread of his treadmill, and set it in motion. Maybe it would wear itself out running through something other than his thoughts.

The next time he shut the tv off in malaise, he went out to Waterfall, to go crystal-stargazing. He expected it to calm his nerves and shake off his trepidation. When he saw the glittering rocks dotting the walls and ceiling, tinted purple, reflecting the pink fluid seeping into the fluoroused cyan water... 

He took a shortcut home.

He took it with him the next day, past the bridge seeds, off-screen, and dropped it under the bench. He looked at the echo flower, which was uncharacteristically quiet, and spoke, to himself as much as to the letter.

"and don't come back."

A visit to Grillby's afterwards steeled him, and after some good food and some thorough royal-guard-petting, he felt better than he had in a long while. This was the atmosphere he needed, warm and friendly, with conversation, and nice music.

... ?

He finally took a glance at the jukebox, expecting it to be as present and as broken as ever. In its place was a much more imposing rectangular block, patterned with squares lit up in the shape of an M and underscored with a panel and a row of dials. It was too familiar for comfort. Grillby gave him a curt nod as soon as he turned back, and the bartender's avian translator piped up.

"Nice new machine, right? Grillbz said he could finally put the old one to rest, now that we have a replacement. And it was a donation from that Mettaton fella, so luckily it didn't cost a cent. It does audio, video, radio, karaoke..."

"It said I look fabulous today, too," the fish monster next to them added. "I've never felt so confident. I'm literally going to be swimming in ladies."

"good luck reeling 'em in," Sans responded, as sincerely as he could muster given the circumstances. He picked up the sauce bottle from the counter, gave it a hearty chug, set it back down, and shuffled off his seat. "you know the drill, grill. on my tab. i gotta head off. i got things to do."

He made his way back to the bench, and retrieved the letter, still as pristine as the day he received it. He turned away, and the echo flower chided, 

"and don't come back." 

For just a moment, this was the most annoying flower he was aware of.

He put the letter in his side of the fridge, stuffed into the empty chisp packet. He spent far longer than he should have flinging the letter (glowing blue) up into the giant sink like a basketball hoop. He meticulously picked the rhinestones off the front, and rearranged them to spell 'SanD arse'.

And finally, he sat back on the couch. He found himself bolstered, unpleasantly, by the chime from the tv signalling the start of the MTT Nightly News Report. It had finally turned into something he couldn’t really ignore. He was going to get it over with.

He tore the envelope and glitter burst forth, coating him head to toe and peppering the sofa like freshly-fallen and flamboyant snow over a map of a puzzle solution. He was showered in it like very pretty acid rain. It swirled and coalesced into every orifice and bodily opening he knew he possessed, and even a few he didn't. Papyrus would be vaccuuming and dusting every inch of the house for months. The note inside, just legible enough through all the glitter, simply read:

I need to see you. 

-MTT

P.S. You're welcome!


	3. only glitter lives here now

"SANS!!!"

His name being unceremoniously screeched was the first thing Sans heard the next morning. The next was the clomping of boots up stairs and down the hallway, and the third, a stern but insistent knock at his bedroom door. He buried his face in the wad of bedsheets that dominated the middle of his otherwise-unadorned mattress and sandwiched him between its bulk and the wall.

"SANS. I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! HAVE YOU BEEN SLEEPING AGAIN?"

His answer was a muffled, "nope."

"SANS, THAT IS BOLDFACED BALDERDASH! YOU SLEEP ALL THE TIME! YOU'RE ALWAYS ASLEEP." Papyrus paused before following his train of thought to its logical conclusion. "I BET YOU'RE SLEEPING RIGHT NOW!"

Sans stifled a guffaw before responding. "yep."

"I KNEW IT! BECOMING A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD REQUIRES THE KEENEST OF INSTINCT. YOU CAN'T PULL ONE OVER ON THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

Sans rolled over from his spooning-the-sheet-ball position so he lay on his back, with it resting atop him, and pulled its fabric up over his face.

"nope."

"I'M VERY GLAD YOU HAVE SUCH FAITH IN ME, AND CAN ADMIT YOUR WRONGDOINGS. BUT SANS. I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP, THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT!"

"yep."

"I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU. SANS. SANS, HAVE YOU BY ANY CHANCE DONE ANY TOMFOOLERY LATELY? IN THE LOUNGE ROOM, PERHAPS???"

Sans lifted the covers up and away from his face to examine the glitter, rubbed off from his head, dotting the bedding like brilliantly nauseating robot herpes.

"nope." 

"SANS. I KNOW YOU ARE LYING. I HAVE EVIDENCE TO THE CONTRARY, THESE TOMS HAVE TAKEN QUITE A FOOLING! LOOK!!!"

He heard shuffling noises, and looked over to see big red mittens stuffing handfuls more of the sparkly powder under his door. He watched it get swept up into the whirl of his trash tornado and distributed liberally over every surface in his room. He would never regain this lost ground ever again. Only glitter lives here now. He sighed.

"yep."

"GOOD! I MEAN, BAD! BUT IT'S GOOD THAT YOU ACKNOWLEDGED IT! NOW..."

This time there was the clattering and swishing of Papyrus attempting to shove a broom under the gap at the bottom of the door, alternately trying to put it in handle-first and bristles-first and failing to succeed with either orientation.

"YOU HAVE TO GET ON TOP OF THIS! I THINK IT MIGHT BE MULTIPLYING."

"nope." Sans thought about it for more than a second, and would have blanched if he could have. "uh. i hope not. lemme just, uh..."

He rolled off the mattress, letting the sheets fall on the floor, and walked over to open the door. Papyrus placed the broom handle into his hands, and he delicately handed it right back. 

"hey, bro. never mind that now. ... how'd you like to go on a vacation, huh? i got some uh, business i gotta sort out, over in new home. you wanna come with? we can stay at mtt resort and everything." 

His offer was met with an immediately-distracted squeal of delight.

"REALLY??? I ALWAYS WANTED TO VISIT THERE! AND, UNDYNE DOES, TOO! SHE TOLD ME ONE TIME, SHE'S NEVER BEEN TO A HOTEL EITHER. MAYBE THAT'S WHERE SHE IS?"

Sans' brow creased, and it took him a second to notice and manually relax it.

"well. if she is there... i'm, uh, sure you'll see her."

"YEAH! OH, THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GREAT! MY FAVOURITE BROTHER, AND MY BEST FRIEND, STAYING IN A COOL HOTEL! AND WE CAN GET ROOM SERVICE, AND, I COULD MEET METTATON! I SHOULD START PACKING." 

Papyrus clutched the broom and raised over his head in triumph, the mess of glitter temporarily forgotten, and turned to go, but Sans gave his cape a careful tug to halt him. 

"i got some g stashed for a special occasion, but maybe you can look in the couch for extra. just in case?"

"SURE, I'LL HAVE A LOOK AROUND!"

"make sure it's a clean sweep."

Papyrus narrowed his eyesockets and lowered the broom.


	4. wasnt simply a chance meeting

Sans wasn't quite sure why he had, in his moment of cleaning-avoidant weakness, decided to give in and validate the letter's request, and it was all too easy to think of several reasons not to.The path of least resistance was paved with pranks, fast food, and (admittedly uneasy) naps, and it was a road he felt quite comfortable on. But as soon as he let the cat out of the bag, Papyrus had been so awash with enthusiasm that he didn't have the heart (or guts) to let his brother down.

Papyrus interpreted 'business to sort out' as 'actual, job-related business', and was so supportive of Sans' prospects that he insisted they should embark immediately. He had even taken the blanket off his bed and packed a bindle to tie to the end of the broom handle, to cart off with him. So, damned if Sans was willing to let him down.

(Mettaton sealed the deal by sending another letter, much more dramatically scrawled, in almost mechanical all-caps print, reading 'SOONER RATHER THAN LATER, DARLING'. This time he dumped the glitter directly on the ground and formed the heap into a vague snowman body shape. He took his pet rock and placed it on top like a head. Papyrus took a dozen selfies with it, photoshopped sunglasses onto both of them in each and every one, and posted them all on UnderNet.)

They took the scenic route by way of Riverperson, on Papyrus' request, and he spent the boat ride alternating between excitement and fretting.

("SANS, WHAT ABOUT ROCKS-ANNE? DID WE REMEMBER TO GET SOMEONE TO FEED HER WHILE WE'RE AWAY?"

"relax, bro. we put her on all that glitter, didn't we? she's got plenty to eat. chill out."

"I'M FINE! I WAS JUST CONCERNED."

"you got attached to her, huh?"

"WELL I HAVE TO LOOK AFTER HER WHEN YOU DON'T, AND THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS, YES! YOU HAVE TURNED THE GREAT PAPYRUS INTO THE GREAT BABYSITTER...RUS! MEMBER OF THE NOT-SO-ROYAL GUARD-IAN.")

Things looked so different when they arrived, even in Hotland, before the Capital proper. As the lava roiled it glistened, like molten gold, and when the steam hissed, it sung, and gleamed. And everywhere they looked, branding was stamped, in big bold letters: MTT(tm).

Their check in at MTT Resort was uneventful. 

("listen paps, i gotta head out for a little while, i got a meeting to go to. you gonna be alright here?"

"WORRY NOT, BROTHER! I'LL GO SIGHTSEEING. IT LOOKS AMAZING OUT THERE!!")

And finally, after making his way through the freshly unfamiliar city and up into a recently renovated building that half resembled a castle, and half resembled a nightclub, Sans stood in front of a lavishly decorated desk in a lavishly decorated room, across from a slightly less lavishly decorated rectangular block of a robot.

"sup."

"I'LL BE FRANK -"

"so you rebranded, huh? doesn't quite have the same ring to it."

Mettaton classic's expressionless panelled face and flat synthesised voice gave nothing away, but his normally towering stature felt oddly diminished, and his words communicated more than his tone could have.

"SANS. I NEED YOU."

Sans tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away for a moment.

"i dunno, boss-man, seems like you got things handled. can't imagine what you'd need out of me. want any hot dogs? i guess i could set my stand up here sometimes too. start a franchise, maybe. with a branch in new home. or do you call it something else now? "mettatopia"?"

Mettaton buzzed, as if in response to a wrong quiz answer.

"YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN. I'M BEAUTIFUL, SWEETHEART, NOT STUPID. AND NEITHER ARE YOU. MAYBE I NEED TO BE CLEARER? I KNOW YOU KNEW ALPHYS."

"'knew'? boy, you wrote her off quick."

MTT's hands clenched reflexively, insulted.

"DO YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS? OR WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?"

"can't say i do."

"ME EITHER. NO MATTER HOW MANY RESOURCES I EXPEND. I KNEW SHE WAS HAVING A HARD TIME AFTER... AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED. BUT NEVER IN MY WILDEST NIGHTMARES DID I IMAGINE SHE'D DISAPPEAR ON ME!"

"she probably had. has? her reasons." Sans offered, and added, "like grief."

Mettaton's lights flared. "WELL, SHE NEEDS TO KNOW I'M SORRY. AND THAT... I'M NOT SURE HOW TO DO THIS WITHOUT HER."

Sans looked away again, out through a window, and down at the slow, hazy pulse of the neon lights now dotting the city. Golden monuments littered the landscape like plants growing through cracks in concrete.

"huh. you don't think you're doing well for yourself?"

"AND EVERYONE ELSE. DO YOU THINK I'M DOING THIS JUST FOR MY OWN BENEFIT?"

"seems like it. just sayin."

"SOMEONE HAD TO STEP UP, AND I WAS THAT SOMEONE. NOBODY DID BUT ME. WHAT, ARE YOU INTERESTED IN TAKING OVER?"

"nah. that's not my style."

"THE UNDERGROUND NEEDED ME AS A STAR. NOW IT NEEDS ME AS A RULER."

"sure," Sans said, and took his hands out of his pockets to gesture open-palmed assuaging, disinterested in arguing that point. "but that doesn't tell me why i'm here, does it."

"I... WELL, I DO NEED YOU. TELL ME, DARLING. HOW DID YOU KNOW ALPHYS?"

"how do you know i knew alphys?"

"SHE KNEW PLENTY OF PEOPLE. PLENTY OF PEOPLE KNEW HER, IN SOME FASHION OR THE NEXT. SOMETIMES SHE KEPT CORRESPONDENCE, AND I NEEDED TO KNOW IF I COULD FIND ANY CLUES AS TO HER WHEREABOUTS."

Sans tsked. "that's kinda impolite, isn't it, buddy? snooping around. for all you know she's still in the bathroom, just taking her sweet time."

Mettaton's panels seemed to frown. "I TRIED GETTING IN THERE TOO. BUT SHE MADE IT AS IMPENETRABLE AS SHE MADE MY BODY. LIKE YOU HAVE ROOM TO TALK. I'VE HEARD ABOUT YOU. YOU STICK YOUR NOSE IN OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS A LOT, FOR SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T HAVE ONE."

"im everyone's pal. i schmooze," Sans shrugged. "so sue me. unless you have a better place for people like me, now?"

Mettaton tactfully ignored his implication. "DO YOU HATE ME?"

"i don't hate anyone. can't say i appreciate the kind of crap you sneak into your shows though." He stuck his pinky into his ear canal and shook it, as if trying to clear something out of his head. "i don't need my brain washed. it's clean enough as is."

"IT HELPS. MONSTERS DESERVE TO BE SOOTHED, AS WELL AS ENTERTAINED," Mettaton explained and steepled his fingers. "NONETHELESS, DARLING. I DO HAVE A PLACE FOR YOU. WITH ME. YOU SEE, I DO NEED YOU. I KNOW YOU'RE A SMART MAN, IN MORE THAN A FEW WAYS."

Sans chortled. "gotta say, i don't hear that too much, from anyone other than paps. but go on."

"ALPHYS... NEVER QUITE 'FINISHED' ME THE WAY SHE PLANNED. YOU SAW MY NEW BODY, I PRESUME? EVERYONE DID. IT WAS MAGNIFICENT. ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT."

"it was something, alright."

"BUT IT WASN'T ENERGY-EFFICIENT ENOUGH, AND SHE NEVER ENDED UP OPTIMISING IT OR UPGRADING MY BATTERY BEFORE SHE DISAPPEARED. I CAN'T BE MYSELF FOR VERY LONG. WHAT IF I'M STUCK SOMEWHERE AND I RUN OUT OF POWER? NOBODY WOULD KNOW HOW TO HELP ME. NOBODY KNOWS HOW TO FIX ME IF I HAVE ANY PROBLEMS. BUT."

Sans waited, and Mettaton pointed a finger straight at him.

"CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG, BUT, LET'S FACE IT, I SO VERY RARELY AM. YOU. I KNOW YOU CAN HELP ME."

He wasn't interested in challenging this assumption either, no matter how questionable or incriminating the manner Mettaton had found that out was. "i could. do i want to though? nah. i'm a busy man. there's a whole lot of nothin out there that i gotta do. why bother?"

"YOUR BROTHER. HE WANTED TO BE A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD, DIDN'T HE? WELL, I'M PHASING THEM OUT IN FAVOUR OF MY OWN PEACEKEEPING FORCE. IF YOU AGREE, I HAVE A PLACE FOR HIM, TOO. AN IMPORTANT ONE, AND IT'S GUARANTEED. IF YOU DON'T... WELL, HE'S ABOUT TO HAVE AS MUCH FREE TIME AS YOU DO."

San's casual demeanour soured for a moment at the needless threat tacked on after the bribe. 

"what's the job?"

"EVERY STAR NEEDS AN AGENT, AND DARLING, WHEN YOU'RE AS BIG A STAR AS I AM, YOU NEED TWO! IT'S SIMPLE. YOU'LL BOTH BE A PART OF MY PERSONAL ENTOURAGE. MY STAFF. MY BODYGUARDS. AND YOU, PERSONALLY, MY MAINTENANCE. YOU STICK WITH ME, YOU DO AS I SAY, AND YOU'LL BE REWARDED AS HANDSOMELY AS MY BEAUTIFUL FACE."

"you drive a hard bargain. can't say i disagree with you, you look great. especially there."

He pointed directly behind Mettaton, and the robot turned around to look and coo over one of his many depictions. He gestured sideways, and the big switch adorning the robot's back was flipped. Smoke filled the room, and when it dissipated, Mettaton Ex turned back around and stared down at him, looking perturbed.

"i gotta see what i'm workin' with, here, and get everything squared. or, un-squared, as the case may be. boss-man. if me and my brother are gonna work for you, we need to see eye-to-eye. ... you're a lot bigger than you look on tv, huh? alright, i'll help you out on this one."

He gestured again, downwards, and Mettaton unwittingly leaned down.

"EXCUSE ME?"

"not yet. listen. i'm on board. and papyrus will be too, he's a big fan, he's gonna be thrilled. but we aren't just gonna be your lackeys. you're gonna respect us and you're gonna trust us. especially if you want me to root around in your chassis every time you short out. when you're vulnerable. dont give me a reason to slack off on that too."

Mettaton pursed his lips at the admonishing, but nodded.

"RIGHT. YES, OF COURSE."

"and you're gonna recoup us for the cost of our room at your resort, that place wasn't as cheap as i was planning on being."

He was met with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"I WAS GOING TO DO THAT ANYWAY, DARLING. IF YOU'RE WORKING FOR ME, YOU'RE ON MY PAYROLL, IT WOULD BE TACKY TO CHARGE YOU FOR IT."

Sans had the tact not to mention anything he had previously heard about Mettaton's expertise as an employer.

"YOU'LL BE PAYING FOR ANYTHING YOU TAKE FROM THE MINIBAR THOUGH."

"eh, good enough. let's seal the deal. put 'er there."

Sans held out his hand, and Mettaton extended his in return, palm down, as if expecting a kiss on top of it. Sans grabbed it and squeezed, and the sound of prolonged flatulence filled the room.


	5. reservations

"SANS. OH MY GOD! THIS PLACE IS AMAZING!"

Sans managed to tear his blank gaze away from the steak in the shape of Mettaton's face, plated and served on the table in front of him, and looked up at his brother seated opposite. Papyrus wore a big black plastic facsimile of Mettaton Ex's hair like a tacky tourist crown, and slapped excitedly on the table with oversized white separate-fingered gloves, instead of the usual red mittens.

"that good, huh?"

"YES! IT'S LIKE A THEME PARK, OF A ROBOT, INSIDE OF A TV, BUT GLOW-IN-THE-DARK, AND REAL LIFE."

Sans opened the side of his jacket, took out a bottle of ketchup, and upended it onto the steak.

"how's our room?"

"FILLED WITH EVEN MORE GLITTER THAN OUR HOUSE. SLIME TOO. THAT CLEANER MUST HAVE REALLY WANTED TO MAKE YOU FEEL AT HOME!"

Sans opened the other side of his jacket, took out a bottle of mustard, and squeezed it out on top of the ketchup.

"you had a look around, right? where'd you hit up?"

"OH, EVERYWHERE! I VISITED THE MTT MEMORIAL, MTT STUDIOS, MTT MEMORIAL: THE SEQUEL, THE MTT CINEMA CENTRE - THEY WERE HAVING A MARATHON, ALL MTT MOVIES, IN ORDER! I WENT DOWNTOWN... I WENT TO A GIFT SHOP FOR SOUVENIRS!" Papyrus held out his hands, as if his purchases weren't self-evident enough. "I GOT SO MANY PRESENTS FOR EVERYONE BACK IN SNOWDIN."

"that's great, bud. i-"

"SANS!"

Sans paused, in the process of reaching up under his ribcage, and under Papyrus's critical glare, slowly unzipped the fanny pack hidden underneath, took out a bottle of relish, and dumped the contents rather unceremoniously on top of the previous sauces.

"yeah?"

"YOU COULD AT LEAST TRY IT BEFORE YOU SLATHER IT IN CONDIMENTS! THE CHEF WORKED HARD ON THAT!" Papyrus squinted, in confused recollection. "I, THINK? HE SEEMED, VERY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT IT, IN AN UNDOUBTEDLY SINCERE MANNER?"

"not everyone wears their passion on their sleeve like you do, bro."

"MAYBE I COULD TEACH HIM A THING OR TWO! AFTER ALL, THEY DON'T EVEN SERVE PASTA HERE. WHAT A TRAGICALLY UNTAPPED MARKET, IN NEED OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND HIS EXPERTISE!"

"how's your food?"

"WELL," he looked down at the bowl in front of him, filled with little shredded pieces of holographic cardboard. "I HAVE TO ADMIT, MTT FLAKES DON'T QUITE MEASURE UP TO THE LOFTY STANDARD OF CUISINE I'M USED TO. BUT THEY'RE ON THE RIGHT TRACK. MAYBE IF THEY WERE ELONGATED? AND SERVED WITH SOME KIND OF... LIQUID, VEGETABLE-BASED GARNISH?"

Sans tilted one of the sauce bottles toward him.

"NO!!!"

"do you want any of mine? i'm not that hungry."

"NO, AGAIN."

He emptied the bottle and tucked in back in his jacket.

"well, don't say i didnt offer," he said and stared at the heaped mess on his plate, distracted by the reminder it presented him. "guess we can always get room service. but, uh, other than that, it's good?"

"YES, IT'S GREAT, I COULD STAY HERE FOREVER. I'M HAVING A TON OF FUN!"

"a... metta-ton?"

Papyrus stuffed a handful of flakes into his mouth and swallowed to stifle his reflexive shriek, and composed himself.

"ACTUALLY, YES! HE'S GOTTEN SO MUCH MORE POPULAR THAN EVER BEFORE! I'VE BEEN TAKING NOTES. SO FAR MY PLAN IS, JUST WAIT UNTIL IMPORTANT PEOPLE ALL INEXPLICABLY DISAPPEAR. AND, OR, BE ON TV. WHICH IS MUCH MORE PRO-ACTIVE, AND LESS CREEPY AND SAD. DO YOU THINK HE COULD LET ME GUEST-STAR ON HIS COOKING SHOW?"

"uh... actually, yeah, probably?"

"REALLY???"

Sans shrugged and stuck his fork into his steak.

"he'd be making a big mis-steak if he didn't."

"... YOU KNOW WHAT? HOW ABOUT YOU, EH? BROTHER? HOW WAS YOUR... 'MEATING'???? NYEH HEH HEH."

"nice one, paps. after all, puns are a medium rare-ly well-done."

"OH MY GOD WHY."

"cause i can. and since i can, i have to. but, uh. yeah. the meeting was... interesting."

Sans sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

"DID YOU MEET HIM? DID YOU GET ME HIS AUTOGRAPH? IS IT REALLY TRUE THE CAMERA ADDS 10 POUNDS?"

"yeah. eh. nah. listen. i've got some good news, and some bad news."

Sans leaned forward and laced his fingers together, and Papyrus narrowed his eyesockets in caution.

"ARE YOU VERY CERTAIN YOU DON'T HAVE... GOOD NEWS, AND MORE, OTHER, DIFFERENT, GOOD NEWS?"

"eh, maybe. the good news is: it went well, for a given definition of well. i got offered a very, uh. lucrative position. reputable, secure, and it'll probably be full-time."

"OH! SANS, WOWIE. I'M PROUD OF YOU! I BET YOU'RE GOING TO DO GREAT. BUT WHAT'S THE BAD NEWS? WILL YOU HAVE TO COME HERE MORE? YOU GO EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME ANYWAY, THAT SHOULDN'T BE A WORRY."

"that isn't the bad news. the bad news is... he offered you a job too. almost same as mine."

"OH MY GOD! COULD YOU IMAGINE ME, WORKING HERE, FOR METTATON? IT WOULD BE INCREDIBLE. NYEH HEH HEH! I COULD STAY HERE ALL THE TIME! EVERYONE WOULD KNOW ME! BUT I'M AFRAID YOU'LL HAVE TO TURN HIM DOWN FOR ME. I'M GOING TO BE A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD! REMEMBER?"

Sans let out the slowest, lowest, longest exhale he could manage without the aid of lungs.

"papyrus... not anymore, buddy. he's gettin' rid of the royal guard."

"... ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT MISTAKEN? HE'S NOT GETTING RID OF THE ROYAL, AH, YARD, INSTEAD? THE GRASS IS ALL OVERGROWN, I SAW IT. MAYBE HE CAN REPLACE IT WITH MORE STATUES OF HIMSELF? OR, THE ROYAL SARD? THAT COULD BE A THING. MAYBE."

Papyrus put his hand to his mouth without thinking.

"nope. you're being let go. even if you weren't really, uh, being held to begin with."

"ARE YOU... CERTAIN? REALLY?"

"yep."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Sans gave his brother's other goofily-gloved hand a pat of comfort. Papyrus frowned, and straightened his wig-helmet.

"WELL. WELL THEN, I'LL BE A MEMBER OF THE... THIS OTHER THING, INSTEAD! AND I'LL BE VERY GREAT AT IT, LIKE I NORMALLY AM!"

"you don't have to decide right now, paps, you can think it over and i'll pass the message on. but you'll be great no matter what you do, alright? there's no shame in setting yourself a new goal. and either way, i'll put in a good word for ya." 

Sans shuffled off his chair.

"now how 'bout we blow this joint and get that room service, huh?"

"... SURE. THANKS!"

(Sans tucked the face steak under the dining table cloth and tipped the bowl of MTT flakes out into the pot of a ficus plant in the corner.)


	6. decked out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is slightly longer than usual, because i put too many good ideas into it.

The next morning, the skeletons received another letter, slipped under their hotel room door.

 

To my two new dear darling agents:  
My subordinates absolutely must be dressed for success.  
Please report to MTT Boutique ASAP for outfitting!  
Present this letter to staff. Payment has been provided.

-Mettaton~  
(his signature was much more florid and swooping than usual)

 

"hey, papyrus."

Sans raised the letter to see his brother from his position, reclined on the bed, and was rewarded by gravity with a sprinkling of gold dust to the face. Papyrus untied his bindle to retrieve the broom, and ineffectually tapped the bristles over Sans' face.

"hey, thanks. did you see any boutiques when you went out?"

"I DID! I WALKED RIGHT ON BY, AND ONE OF THE MANNEQUINS AT THE WINDOW STARTED JUMPING AND BONKING ITSELF AGAINST THE GLASS. IT DIDN'T SEEM VERY HAPPY THAT I DIDN'T GO IN, BUT I WAS A VERY BUSY MAN!"

Sans sat up, put a hand down behind him for stability, and wheezed out some glitter from his nose-hole.

"... eh. yeah, that sounds about right. good thing you're free today, you can make it up to 'em. that's our destination."

He creased and folded the paper, and sent the resulting airplane soaring. The pointed tip lodged itself into one of the crevices of Papyrus' battle body. 

"nice catch."

"HEY!!!"

Papyrus swiped the plane out and unfurled it to read the message.

"... 'AGENTS'? AS IN, SECRET AGENTS??? WOWIE, THAT DOES SOUND IMPORTANT! MAYBE IT WON'T BE TOO BAD TO NOT BE A ROYAL GUARDSMAN."

"i dunno. that wasn't very specific. considering he's such a big-shot celebrity, maybe it means talent agents?"

"THAT'S FINE TOO. AFTER ALL, I'M VERY PERSUASIVE. HE'LL HAVE SO MANY ROLES HE WON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM ALL!"

"from the sound of it, i think he already does."

"EH?"

"forgeddaboudit. let's roll."

Sans rolled sideways off the bed, and Papyrus had sprinted out the door and halfway down the hallway before realising he wasn't being accompanied. He dashed back. Sans was laying down on the ground with his hands laced together over his stomach.

"actually, on second thought, it's pretty nice down here. maybe you can go, and i'll ketchup." 

"SANS, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, THERE AREN'T EVEN ANY CONDIMENTS ON YOUR PERSON THIS TIME! HOW DO YOU JUSTIFY THIS TO YOURSELF???"

"i re-"

"NO! NEVER MIND! NYYYYEAGH!"

Papyrus scooped him up with a familiar war cry and suddenly Sans didn't have all that much to say. Now that he had minutiae to occupy himself with, it had been so easy to slip back into his old attitude that he had taken it for granted. This didn't feel too different from any other reality he could be presented with, despite the bits that made him uncomfortable, because no matter what, it had all just felt so impermanent. 

But this reminded him. Papyrus wouldn't see his friend again.

"COME ON, NO SLACKING OFF! WE HAVE A JOB TO DO! I KNOW THE WAY. I'LL EVEN GIVE YOU A LIFT!"

"uh. ok. thanks, bro."

Thankfully, the taller skeleton had no problem filling in the dead air. He shuffled Sans up into a piggyback, handed him the letter, and began his trek out with long strides. 

("SO! IF WE REALLY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE SECRET AGENTS, WHY DO YOU THINK WE'RE GETTING NEW OUTFITS, HM??? I BET YOU HADN'T CONSIDERED THAT! I BET WE EVEN GET COOL SPY GEAR TOO! LIKE PENS THAT SHOOT LASERS. AND NUNCHUCKS. AND A HEADSET! BUT I SUPPOSE WE COULD HAVE ONE OF THOSE EITHER WAY. DO YOU THINK METTATON WILL LET ME CUSTOMISE MY CLOTHES? I COULD WRITE IN METALLIC MARKER IF IT MAKES HIM FEEL BETTER ABOUT IT. AND I COULD WRITE, 'DON'T LOOK', SO NOBODY WILL LOOK AND SEE ME WHEN I DO SECRET SPY STUFF!"

"good idea."

"ISN'T IT JUST???")

Before long, Papyrus stopped in front of a very stylish-looking building with extravagant MTT branding and put Sans down. A tattered dummy in the display window, decked out an elegant blue gown, gave them an impatient, expectant glower.

"HERE! SEE? I REMEMBERED IT VERY CLEARLY. LOOK AT THIS SIDEWALK!"

He gestured downwards and Sans noticed he was pointing at a note stuck down on the pavement. Written in glittery gel pen, it read:

'Go up into the stylish salon above for some great deals!'

"seems legit."

"AND THE MANNEQUIN REMEMBERS ME.” He gave it a wave. “THIS IS THE PLACE! ONWARD!"

He dashed in and Sans sauntered in behind him.

"EXCUSE ME PLEASE!!! I BELIEVE WE HAVE AN APPOINTMENT HERE???"

The two women staffing the counter paused, their conversation interrupted, and exchanged a look before joining the dots. 

"Oh! Like, hey! You guys must be Papyrus and Sans, right?"

"Like, yeah, hey, we were totally expecting you guys!"

"SANS," Papyrus breathed in barely-hushed excitement. "THEY KNOW WHO I AM EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW THEM! THIS JOB IS WORKING ALREADY!"

Sans gave him a quick little thumbs up, then placed the letter up on the counter and tucked his hands into his pockets. 

"that's us, guilty as charged. nice you meet you, ladies. here's our invite."

"Thanks. Like, cool, nice to meet you too. I'm Bratty -" the alligator introduced herself with a flourish. Papyrus snagged one of her hands out of the air and gave it a hearty shake. "- And this is my BFF, Catty."

"Yeah," the cat agreed. "I'm Catty, and this is my BFF, Bratty! Welcome to the, like, famous and fabulous MTT Boutique! I hope you're ready to look fantastic!"

"I WAS BORN READY!!!"

Papyrus gleefully gave her hand a shake too.

"Okay, Catty, can you like, collect their payment?"

"Sure thing~"

"BUT, I THOUGHT IT SAID-" Papyrus went to pick up the letter, only for Catty to whip it out from under his mittens and pull out a pair of scissors. She held the piece of paper up with one hand and carefully cut around Mettaton's signature. Then she tapped a button on the cash register, and Papyrus leaned over just in time to watch her place it in the drawer, amongst several other similar scraps of paper with Mettaton's signature on them. 

"Okay Bratty, they're, like, all paid up and stuff."

Bratty caught the confusion etched on his features.

"Oh, do you guys not, like, know? Everywhere accepts Mettaton autographs as currency now. Everywhere that matters, at least."

Catty grinned widely and added, "Yeah! Like, I finally got him to sign my butt, and now, my butt is totally legal tender!!!"

"Catty!" Bratty chuckled and gave her a playful nudge, and Catty cackled and pushed the register closed. "Okay, so like, come on through so we can take your measurements, and then we can start picking stuff out, alright?"

"Yeah, you're gonna look SO great. All our wares are MTT-approved, so you know they're the best of the best, and we make them out of garbage so they're super environmentally-friendly!"

"Catty!!! You know we're not meant to say that now! They're 'salvaged and refurbished materials'!"

"Right, they're made of salvaged and refurbished materials! We send them to factories for processing, and-"

"Catty, ssh! We aren't supposed to talk about that, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"But trust us, okay, they're really good."

"Yeah, they're really good."

"Big guy, you can come with me, and Catty, you can take care of the little guy."

"I'M PAPYRUS," Big guy clarified, and picked up the little guy to hold him at eye level with the alligator. "AND THIS IS SANS. HE'S MY BROTHER." He lifted him slightly higher and to the right so their faces were side-by-side. Sans wiggled his fingers in a wave. "SEE THE FAMILY RESEMBLANCE???"

Both saleswomen put their hands to their mouth in thought. 

"... You know, I totally do."

"Yeah, you guys look super related. C'mon."

They were ushered into a smaller back room, and Bratty and Catty retrieved tape measures and other assorted tools required for their task while Papyrus stood, marvelling at the whole situation with Sans tucked under his arm.

"uh, might wanna put me back down, dude."

"OH. RIGHT."

Sans stood on his own once more, and at Catty's prompting, outstretched his arms so she could start measuring. She glanced at his face again out of the corner of her vision. 

"You know, you do look totally familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"i get around." He paused and spent a few moments watching Bratty fussing over Papyrus' costume before volunteering any more. "i did perform stand-up at mtt resort for a while, maybe you saw me there. i was kind of a big deal. a real bone-afide star." He winked.

Catty giggled and gave him a swat on the shoulder. "Haha! Oh my god! You're THAT guy! I totally remember that now!" She kneeled down to start taking measurements from his torso. "So you must be totally psyched to be working for him again, huh?"

"actually, i didn't see him all that much when i did. this is new territory for me."

"That's so weird! He's like, really hands-on with all his businesses. We see him every few days, even though he must be like, super busy with all his TV stuff."

Sans nodded and paused again to see Papyrus making grand, heroic poses while Bratty measured around his arms and chest. He looked down to see Catty starting on his legs.

"is he alright to work for?"

"Honestly, he is like, SO nice. And SO good-looking." She tittered, paw over her mouth, before continuing. "And like, we didn't actually even come to him for a job, he came to US. I don't know how he found out, but we were selling stuff out of an alley. He bought this like, weird key we found, and asked if we wanted to do this professionally. And we were like, well, yeah! Obviously! That would be so rad. And then, we asked him to marry us both. But he said no, so we just went ahead and got married without him!" She laughed again and Sans let out a hum of acknowledgement, too deep in thought over her answer to respond more specifically.

"But yeah, it's great. We have this beautiful place in the city, and I totally adopted this cute little white cat."

"Catty! It's totally a dog," Bratty interjected between jotting numbers down on a notepad.

("THAT'S WHERE THAT MUTT ENDED UP???" Papyrus leaned over to whisper.)

"I totally NAMED it Cat though, Bratty! That counts!"

"Yeah, you named it after you!"

"I know, isn't it great??"

"YOU CAN NAME LIVING THINGS AFTER YOURSELF???" Papyrus' eyebrows shot up, his investment in the conversation renewed. "SANS, CAN WE-"

"howzabout we talk about it when we get back to our hotel room?"

"OH, ALRIGHT!"

Bratty twirled her pen around her finger and tapped it on the paper. "Okay, I think we've got everything we need here. Right, Catty?"

"Like, yep, I'm good to go." Catty handed the notepad she was using over, and Bratty placed both down on a desk for safekeeping.

"Okay, so like, we'll take you back out front, and you can browse and bring back stuff to try on. We do have a gentleman's formalwear section, which Mettaton did say he wanted you guys to pick stuff from, so we'll direct you there, and we also have accessories, so you can get those afterwards."

Catty ushered them out and towards the appropriate rows of clothing.

"If you need any help, just give us a holler, kay?"

"CAN DO!"

Papyrus saluted, and when she left, he turned towards Sans, hands on hips. 

"BOY! THIS IS GOING GREAT! AND DON'T WORRY, I DIDN'T TELL HER ABOUT US BEING SECRET AGENTS. I SAID WE WERE GOING TO BE REGULAR AGENTS. SHE BOUGHT IT HOOK, LINE AND SINKER! BUT JUST IN CASE, I DID SOME COOL POSES TO DISTRACT HER. I THINK IT WORKED!" 

"nice job, paps. taking the heat off... good instincts. you're a natural. i had a pretty interesting chat with the lady helping me out, too. but now, uh."

Sans looked around at the rows of suits. They covered a very wide variety of styles, cuts, textures and fabrics, but seemed to be, exclusively, pink, purple, or black in colour. He picked a bright pink one off a rack and gave Papyrus a cheesy grin.

"you think this matches my eyes, or what?"


End file.
